Thursday, July 9, 2009

Ep #7: Chapter 32 - Grace Under Fire



Dunham stood in the center of what was left of the Oval Office. All around him, the walls had been completely blown apart in the explosion. Everything was completely black. The roof had been pushed outward from the explosion. Now the Oval Office was completely exposed to the open elements of the outside. The explosion had been so destructive, no one had any hope that any part of the President would remain.

However, the forensics specialists who were assigned to the case wouldn’t give up until they found something.

Dunham felt numb inside as he took off his helmet and surveyed the scene around him. America had just been dealt another heavy blow. It didn’t matter who was responsible for this act of war. All that did matter was America was going to appear weak and without a leader. It would send a message to the world that the great Eagle has finally fallen.

“What has this world come to?” he asked softly, not expecting an answer.

“Are you a Christian?”

Slowly, Dunham turned his head and saw a man standing beside him, regarding him with a inquisitive look. He cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

The man showed him his credentials. “I’m with the Secret Service. Charles McLaughlin.” He put his credentials away. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Dunham hesitated. “I’m sorry…what was the question?”

“Are you a Christian?”

“Why would you ask me that? What difference would it make?”

“Well, if you’re a Christian, then it would make all the difference in the world, wouldn’t it? In spite of what has happened here, there’s always still hope for a Christian, because Christians believe in a God who can move mountains.” He looked around at the destruction surrounding them. “Christians would believe that some good would come out of this because doesn’t the Bible mention something about everything working together for good to those who love Him?”

Dunham stared at him, incredulous. “How could something good come out of this?”

McLaughin didn’t answer his question. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

The fireman let out a weary sigh. “Yes, I’m a Christian. But even Christians struggle with doubt and right now…I don’t see any hope. Do you?”

McLaughlin paused as he fought with an inner struggle of his own. Finally, he said, “Stick around, kid. God works in mysterious ways.” He turned to face him. “If you want to know the truth about one of these mysteries, brother, then come with me.”

Driven by curiosity and a need to know the truth, the fireman followed the Secret Service agent out of the destroyed Oval Office and across the grounds of the White House.

******* *******


Lambert sat up on the back end of an ambulance, holding a damp towel to the back of his neck. He had told the paramedics that he was fine, in fact, repeatedly. When they saw the grim resolve in his dark eyes and the barely restrained anger, they finally backed away. They understood his anger.

At least, they only thought they understood it. They believed he was angry because he felt responsible for what had happened at the White House only hours before. That it was his fault the President had met his demise at the hands of terrorists. Now there was only one option left for Lambert and that was to hunt the ones responsible for this atrocity and bring them to justice.

That is what the paramedics thought was going through the mind of the secret service agent.

They were wrong.

Lambert’s rage was deeper than that. And it began to come to the surface when he happened to glance up and noticed who was coming his way. It was Barrington, Shiva, and Erin…but ahead of them, Lenox was leading the way. They were heading right for him.

Angrily, he got to his feet and met them before they got to the ambulance. No one was aware that Alyson and Meers were approaching from the long stretch of drive way in front of the White House.

Lambert stopped in front of Lenox, glaring at him. “I want a word with you.”

Lenox ignored the fact that the secret service agent was referring just to him. “Fine. We want a word with you so I guess that works out for all of us.”

“No…not with them.” He poked a forefinger at Lenox’ chest, emphasizing his point. “Just you.”

Barrington looked from Lenox to Lambert. It wasn’t hard to notice the hostility between them. “Michael…what’s going on?”

Lenox kept his eyes on Lambert. “Nothing. This will take just a moment.” He followed Lambert away from the others back toward the ambulance. The two men climbed into the ambulance and Lambert pulled the doors closed, giving them privacy.

Barrington frowned at this sudden turn of events.

“What was that all about?” Shiva wanted to know.

He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t really know.”

Erin hesitated, “Al…how are we going to find out where Michael has been all this time? Why won’t he tell us?”

“I don’t know that either, but I intend to find out.” He didn’t like the way the tension between them and the agents from Justice were suddenly diffused. Lenox had never given in to working with them before. Why now? That was bothering him more than he wanted to admit.

As they waited for Lambert and Lenox to finish their discussion, they were unaware of Meers setting up his camera from the cover of a black SUV. Alyson was beside him, her microphone at the ready as she gave him instructions. They were waiting for something to happen just as the ATD agents were waiting. Alyson, however, also wished she could find out what was being discussed in the ambulance by Lenox and Lambert. She also had noticed the tension between the two.

A few minutes later, the doors at the back of the ambulance swung open and Lambert came out first. He was clearly angry about something as he approached Barrington, Shiva and Erin. Lenox came out behind him, but his face wore no expression. It was hard to even begin to imagine what going through his mind. Alyson narrowed her eyes. Clearly harsh words had been exchanged inside the ambulance. She signaled for Meers to begin filming, and as the DEN was recording live, she fully intended to get everything on this story that she could before one of those agents stopped her. The fact that they still had not been noticed was in their favor.

Suddenly, there was a new development.

Just before Lambert got to the ATD agents, two other men were walking toward them from the White House. Barrington saw them first and couldn’t help but show his surprise.

Turning to the others, he pointed. “It’s Chuck McLaughlin.”

Shiva frowned. “Well, we’ve always wondered where he had gone off to when Erin told us he had left the shelter.”

Lambert stopped and looked at the two approaching men. “Charles McLaughlin?” He had not had the opportunity to meet the man since he had become an agent of the Secret Service, but he had become familiar with his personal bio. He didn’t know who the fireman was and didn’t pay any attention to him. “Where have you been? We were beginning to believe you were dead.”

McLaughlin and Dunham stopped as they joined Lambert and the ATD agents. “As you can see, rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” He nodded a greeting to the ATD agents. “Bear…Fury…Erin.”

Barrington wondered if McLaughlin had kept the secret of the shelters location to himself. He returned the greeting. “Chuck.”

Dunham hung back, watching. No one seemed to notice him.

Lambert scowled. “All of you guys know each other?”

“That’s not important,” McLaughlin told him. “What is important is that I can tell you who is responsible for the assassination of President Walter J. Ballou.”

From their cover, Alyson continued to watch as Meers filmed the ATD agents, the Secret Service men, and the fireman live on the DEN.

******* *******


Director Darren T. Fuller was at a loss of words. He had been sitting behind his desk in his office at the Federal Building in Albany, spending time in the Word of God. As he studied, he suddenly found himself distracted by an overpowering desire to turn on the television set. He fought the urge and tried to focus his full attention on the Book of Revelation.

The harder he tried to concentrate, the more powerful the impulse became. Fuller let out a sigh of aggravation. He knew there was nothing on the television that he wanted to see. He was fully aware of what was happening at the White House, and of the continuing news story, which he was certain had nothing new to report. His friend, the President of the United States, was gone, and there was nothing that could be done to change that.

Yet something was drawing him to the television set.

Hesitantly, he reached for the remote control and aimed it at the television. Since the channel was already tuned to the DEN, he immediately understood that the urge to turn it on was from a strong prodding of the Spirit. On the screen, he could see the White House in the background. Several men were standing together, and one woman. There were only two men whom he didn’t recognize. One of them was a fireman.

He saw Barrington, Shiva, Erin, and Lambert. When he saw Lenox, he realized that for some strange reason, he wasn’t all that surprised to see him.

He frowned. The way the camera was angled lead him to believe that they were being filmed without being aware of it.

“Charles McLaughlin?” Lambert inquired. “Where have you been? We were beginning to believe you were dead.”

Fuller recognized the name. Although he had never met McLaughlin, Barrington had told him about him when they were keeping the Secret Service agent at the shelter.

“Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” McLaughlin responded. Then, he nodded his head toward the others. “Bear…Fury…Erin.”

Barrington returned the nod. “Chuck.”

“All of you guys know each other?”
Lambert asked them.

Fuller didn’t like where this was going. He picked up the phone and dialed Fronk’s extension number. Fronk picked it up on the first ring. Before he could say anything, Fuller snapped, “Get in here!”

He hung up the phone just as McLaughlin said, “…I can tell you who is responsible for the assassination of President Walter J. Ballou.”

Fuller shook his head. “Aw, no…” He reached into his pocket, took out his cell phone, and speed-dialed the number to Barrington’s cellular phone. Staring at the television screen, he prayed that he would be able to get a hold of Barrington with enough time to warn him that they were on live television.

******* *******


Staci checked Sumter’s vital signs, hoping for an improvement of some kind in his condition. Unfortunately, there was no change. She let out a sigh and looked at her patient. He at least seemed to be at peace. The agents of AIM were unable to find him and thanks to her removing the implant which was in his sinus cavity, they weren’t going to be able to find him.

With nothing further to do for him, she left the private hospital room and closed the door behind her. She headed up the hall where her office was across from the elevators. As she was walking toward her door, Moore was stepping out of the elevator with his customary limp.

She smiled and waved at him. “Hi, Pa.”

Moore returned the smile and made his way toward her. “Hello, Daughter Number 1. And aren’t you my favorite one, too?”

She opened the door to her office and turned back to look at him. “Of course, I’m your favorite. Would you like some coffee? I have a pot on in my office. I could use a cup.”

He followed her into her office. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. Too much caffeine, and I’m in trouble. It excites this old ticker of mine, and I’ve learned it’s best not to do that ‘cause if I do, I could be meeting with the Man upstairs before you do.” He noticed the television set was on with the volume turned down. He stopped in front of it and looked at the screen. The DEN was showing the destruction of the Oval Office of the White House. “You go on ahead, though. You’re still young and have a healthy ticker for strong coffee.”

Staci set her clipboard with Sumter’s medical records onto her desk. “I don’t make strong coffee. Unless I really need it.” She poured herself a cup.

Moore glanced at her. “Can I ask you a question?”

She put a little cream into her coffee. As she stirred it, she said, “Sure.”

He hesitated. “Does God ever give people…I dunno…things? Objects? Like, say…a car?”

She turned to face him, curios. “I suppose He does. My sister used to tell me that God gives people who love Him things they need when they need it all the time. He isn’t in the business to give just because people want Him to. He gives when it’s needed the most.”

Moore paused to consider her words. “Well…I suppose the key phrase there is that He gives to people who love Him.”

“Oh, Pa…I’m not an expert or anything. I…I just believe that He does provide us with everything we need. To those who belong to Him and to those who are seeking.” She looked at him closely. “Are you seeking?”

He shrugged. “Well…I am asking Him things. I’m not sure…I think He’s listening. Listening to an old guy like me…well, just makes it real personal. Like He truly does care for a guy like me.”

“Of course, He does. He loves you, Pa.”

He paused. “Well…I think He gave me a car. A nice one, too. A Lexus.” He pointed with his thumb behind him. “Back in the parking lot, there’s this black Lexus, and it seems to have been left there since after the vanishings. Keys and all inside.” He reached into his pocket and pulled them out. “In fact, I have the keys right here.”

Staci hesitated. “Are you really asking me if maybe God gave you a Lexus?”

“Yeah…Maybe you’re right. Kinda crazy thinking from an old man like me, huh?”

Staci thought for a moment. “Pa…”

“Hmm?”

She leaned back against her desk, holding her coffee cup with both hands. “I could ask God for you…Ask Him to show us if this is His Will by putting a fleece before Him.” She peered at him. “Now, I don’t know what will happen if I make a prayer like this. Nikki used to put fleeces before God and, well, uhm…I guess they worked for her. So…so let me do that for you, okay?”

Moore shrugged. “Sure. Okay…Should we both kneel? Take into account how old I am and my knees don’t bend like they used to.”

She smiled at him. “Let’s just both sit over here on the sofa.”

As they sat down, Moore couldn’t help but say, “I guess you doctors are all alike. It seems to me there’s a sofa in every doctors office you go to. Seems to me that maybe they mostly sleep when they should be helping the sick.”

Staci grinned, sitting beside him. She took his right hand in her hands. “You don’t have to pray. I will. Okay?”

He nodded.

She bowed her head and began to pray. Moore also bowed when he realized she wasn’t peeking at him. He closed his eyes and listened to her prayer.

“Father,” Staci prayed, “Pa and I come to You today to ask You for a Lexus. I’m, uhm, still so new at praying…I don’t know how to do it other than to just come out and say it. I asked for a bird earlier, but You gave me a dragonfly. So I really don’t know how You’re gonna answer this.”

Moore cracked open one eye to peek at her. Then, he closed it again.

“Pa found a Lexus. I think he really wants a Lexus. Can You let him this Lexus he found?” She paused. “Father…let us have an answer in this way. If the Lexus isn’t meant for him, then make it so he cannot drive it. If this car is something You want him to have, then give him an opportunity to drive it. But most of all, please…please let him see You. Maybe that’s why this Lexus is here so that he can see You working in his life…So that he can come to You and trust You…So he can become one of Your own. This we pray in the name of my Lord, Jesus…Amen.”

“Amen,” Moore said. He opened his eyes and turned to face her. “Thank you, Staci. I…” He stopped.

Staci was staring at the television set with her mouth open in surprise.

“Staci, what’s wrong?”

She pointed at the television. “That’s…that’s Michael.”

Moore turned to the television. On the screen were several men and a woman. One of the men was Michael Lenox. “Well, I guess he isn’t all that missing as we had thought. And look, there he is with Son Number 1.” He referred to Barrington.

Staci got to her feet and approached the TV. She turned it up. “I-I can’t believe he’s back. Why didn’t they tell me?” She had already forgotten about what she and Moore had prayed for. “I have to get to Albany, Pa. I have to find a way to get back to Albany and see Darren.”

Moore looked up from the sofa and a wry smile appeared on his lips. “Really?” He winked at her. “Well, my favorite daughter…I do believe your prayer has been answered.”

******* *******


Saint was so shocked, for a brief few seconds, he couldn’t bring himself to move. Sheriff Hoag had simply come through the doorway, leveled his firearm at King, and fired off a single round. Then, King fell against the wall and slumped to the floor behind his desk. At that point, Saint just stood there, staring in horror. He couldn’t understand how this could be allowed to happen.

Deputy Sheriff Chase was also stunned. As he stood there trying to understand the motive behind his superiors actions, the sound of people running out in the hall could be heard.

Chris had been downstairs with the Dell’s and a few other church attendees when the shot was fired. Chris and Donna Perkins dropped what they were doing and they came up running. When they saw the sheriff in the doorway of the office with his gun drawn, they stopped in the corridor.

Hoag seemed to be oblivious of anyone else in the office. He stepped further inside, intending to stand over King and put another bullet into him. Yet as he moved, Saint grabbed a hold of him by the collar and attempted to push him back. Hoag grabbed Saint by the arm and twisted hard. He slammed the man into the wall and pointed his gun right at his face.

Chase took a step forward to intervene, but Hoag stopped him with a shout. “Stay where you are, Pete! You just stay back!”

Chase hesitated. “Sheriff…what are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“No, I’m not crazy.” Hoag focused on Saint. “But you are, aren’t you?”

Saint glared at him. “Go ahead, you coward. Pull the trigger.”

“Don’t tempt me, John. The only reason I haven’t killed you is because I’ve known your family all my life. I’ve known everyone in this town except for that terrorist you’ve been keeping company with.”

“What? David is no terrorist!”

Hoag glared. “His name was Darwyn Musad. He was a terrorist. Now I really don’t know how you wound up with him, John, but if he was somehow brainwashing you and the others, then you can get help.”

Saint stared at him. “What are you talking about? He wasn’t brainwashing anyone! You walked in here and just shot him without offering him a chance to defend himself!”

“Listen to yourself! That man was a cold-blooded terrorist. His name is on the most wanted list of the FBI. He’s responsible for killing hundreds of innocent lives in the name of his god! I don’t know what he was planning to do here in Willow Creek, John, but I certainly wasn’t going to just stand around and let it happen.”

Chris and Donna were at the doorway now. “David isn’t a terrorist. Maybe Darwyn Musad was, but David isn’t.”

Hoag shook his head. “You’re all fools.” He released Saint and stepped back. “The vanishings and the attack on our country are related, and that man had a part in it.” He pointed toward the desk where King’s body lay behind it. “You’re all obviously brainwashed somehow. He’s got you all pushing some kind of gospel about salvation when the truth is…he’s manipulated you into whatever scheme he had going.”

Saint shook his head. “The only Gospel we’re sharing is about the Lord Jesus Christ. Because if you don’t accept Him, you will die in your sins and burn in Hell.”

Hoag regarded him. “And you’re just mad enough to want to send me there, aren’t you?”

Saint didn’t respond.

“Are you telling me that your David King, who was a terrorist, is going to be allowed into the Kingdom of Heaven while I’m on the road to Hell?” He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you people. John, get your followers together and get out of Willow Creek. When I come back here tomorrow at noon, you’d better be gone. And don’t ever come back. You’ve all stirred up enough trouble around here. Take your troubles out of my town. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

Hoag glanced at Chase. Then, he turned and walked out of the office, Chris and Donna stepping back to get out of his way. When he was gone, they hurried into the office, tears in their eyes at the thought of David King, lying on the floor dead. They were all stunned. After Hoag had walked out, they all stood there, staring at the desk. They knew what they would find behind it.

They couldn’t bring themselves to move. Chris moved to stand beside her husband and he numbly put his arm around her. Donna stood still, tears rolling down her cheeks. Even Chase couldn’t bring himself to move. He was more than aware that times were bad, but he never expected anything like this from Sheriff Robert Hoag.

The office was silent. No one said a word.

Suddenly, a voice from behind the desk and from the floor said, “Is he gone?”

Chase looked at Saint. Saint held his breath.

“David…?” Chris inquired hopefully.

A hand appeared from behind the desk and grabbed at the edge. Then, another one. Finally, King’s head appeared as he peered over the top of the desk. “Is he gone?” he asked again.

Saint and Chris moved around the desk, both reaching for him. “Yeah, he’s gone,” Saint said as he and his wife helped King up. Saint began to laugh. “I…I don’t see any blood. David, are you alright?”

King nodded. “Yes, yes. I’m fine. The bullet didn’t hit me.”

Chase shook his head, trying to understand what had happened. “But he shot you, David. There was no way he could have missed.”

“Perhaps he was using blanks?” King suggested.

“Sheriff Hoag doesn’t use blanks.”

“I do not know what to tell you. He may have shot at me, but he missed.”

“No, he didn’t,” Saint said softly. “Look…”

All eyes turned to what he was pointing at. There in the wall behind the desk was a bullet hole. Chase moved around the desk for a closer look. He took out a knife and dug into the hole with it. A short time later, he managed to dig the bullet out of the wall. He turned and showed it to the others, speechless. He looked at King.

“David,” Saint said, shaking his head, “this…this is amazing. This bullet passed right through you!”

King paused. “But…I did not feel anything.”

“God’s watching over you,” Donna said. Unable to contain herself no longer, she moved toward him and hugged him. “He has something He wants you to do, and no one can stop the Will of God. Not even Sheriff Hoag.”

King returned the hug.

Chase let out a sigh. “Okay…I’ve seen a miracle today. There’s nothing else that could explain this.” He paused. “Janice would never believe this. Guys…I only have one question.”

They all turned to look at him.

“What’s that?” Saint asked.

Chase didn’t hesitate. “What must I do to be saved?”

_______ _______ _______

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